After Great Pain
by ilssa
Summary: The Doctor has regenerated, no one is coping and Rose risks a dangerous course of action to get him back. Written pre PotW
1. A Formal Feeling

**After Great Pain**

**- 0 -**

They stayed at first because the Doctor – the new Doctor – seemed to need them. He said this regeneration had been hard on him, said it was taking longing than it normally did for his memories to return. Not that they'd all necessarily return, but he needed more than he had at the moment. Enough at least to let him function as a Time Lord should.

Rose sometimes thought the real reason they'd stayed was because they didn't know what else to do. They were as damaged as he was. The three of them had travelled around practically numb, Jack doing most of the piloting of the TARDIS, while the Doctor pottered about in a daze, tinkering with something or other in the control room with his sonic screwdriver. He'd seemed to remember that well enough.

Rose had spent most of that first week in her room staring blankly at the walls, wrapped in the Doctor's battered leather jacket. The TARDIS ensured the climate control in her room was perfect and it was truthfully too hot with it on, but the smell and feel of it comforted her. He'd been wearing it when they'd found him. Bloodstained and torn like him, but still basically in one piece. Rose had later discovered it hanging out of one of the waste units in the medilab, discarded because the man it belonged to was gone, and its new owner had no use for it.

That was when she'd started to hate him.

Another week passed and the Doctor began to take command. Little things at first, like suggesting they should stop drifting in the space-time vortex and actually land somewhere. They needed supplies, he'd said, and it would do them all good to get some fresh air. Jack picked a pretty sea planet and they spent a few hours there restocking, each of them carrying out their our own errands, lost to their own thoughts. When they had reboarded the TARDIS, the Doctor had taken his place at the controls and Jack had just moved aside. He left a few days later. He told them he'd met up with an old friend from his days as a Time Agent. The Doctor had seemed disappointed, but made no attempt to change his mind.

Jack hadn't offered to take Rose with him.

Not long after that the Doctor tried to talk to Rose about what had happened up on Satellite 5. She asked him to take her home. Rose thought that was the first time she'd seen him display any emotion stronger than mild curiosity in his new body. He asked her to stay, and then called her a sentimental little ape when she said no. Rose laughed, because that had almost sounded like something her Doctor would say. And then she cried and he patted her awkwardly on the back and told her he was sorry. He asked her again to stay, just for one more week; one more week to see if it would work. She agreed, but regretted it even as she said it.

He developed an almost desperate edge after that. It seemed nearly everything they did was frantic and rife with danger. They saved worlds and brought down armies and, sometimes, in the thick of it all, he'd turn to look at her with a mad gleam in his eyes that she almost recognised. But then he blinked, or said something in an accent that was as unfamiliar to her as his face, and the spell was broken.

Rose hated the quiet times when they were travelling through time and space the most. He followed her round the TARDIS like a lost puppy; huge eyes and gangling limbs that he didn't seem to have quite got the hang of. He talked a lot. Telling her things, asking her things and always, always watching her. Sometimes the weight of his gaze was so heavy she felt it would snap her in two. The TARDIS was vast, but she somehow conspired against Rose in all her efforts to avoid him. Every corridor led back to him, every room she settled in suddenly contained a previously unseen door that opened to reveal him. Rose stood his company with gritted teeth, and prayed for them to land somewhere soon.

Finally she asked him to take her back in time to see her Doctor. His surprise rapidly turned to anger. Rose ignored both emotions and begged. When her pleas failed to move him, she resorted to tears and then when that didn't work, reached up on tiptoe to bury her fingers in his hair, and her lips in his.

For a second he was frozen, cold in her embrace, and then he came to burning life. The air was squeezed from Rose's lungs as he wrapped his arms around her, dragging her to him, as close as two people could be without merging into one. Something buried inside Rose began to crack as he deepened the kiss. It felt as if she was splitting wide open, something huge and terrifying tearing at her, desperate to break free. But before it could he pushed her away, hands trembling, breath heaving from him, his face deathly pale.

Rose felt the ice inside her reform, the fissure sealing itself shut once more. She was aware, though, that something was wrong; it wasn't as solid as it had been before. Rose looked up and found the Doctor watching her. She refused to recognise the regret and tenderness burning in his eyes, and saw only pity.

When he said her name, a husky voiced plea, she turned and walked away, heading straight for the medilab. It took only moments to find what she needed and make her way back out of the room, and only seconds to pour the clear, odourless liquid into the Doctor's favourite mug. She waited for it to dry and then hung it back on the mug tree in the kitchen. That was something that hadn't changed – he still used the mug Rose had had made for him as a joke with 'World's Best Time Lord' printed on the side. At first she'd wondered if he'd remembered, but then Jack, drunk on tequila one night, had pointed out that he'd only have needed to remember he was a Time Lord to recognise the mug as his. Rose had considered breaking it then, smashing it into a million pieces, but somehow had been unable to. Now she was glad she hadn't – it made everything so much easier.

Rose slept deeply and dreamlessly that night and awoke feeling better than she had in what felt like forever. Freshly showered and with her face made up for the first time in weeks, she headed for the kitchen to make breakfast, and ate it sitting next to the Doctor's slumped form at the kitchen table. When she'd washed up her plate and cup, she headed for the control room and entered the co-ordinates she'd decided on the night before. She was going back to a time just before Jack had started travelling with them, a day when the Doctor had given in to her moaning and taken her space shopping. If she timed it right, the other her should be busily trawling through the thousands of shops housed on the moon planet, while the Doctor read newspapers at a starside café.

* * *

A/N **There is a part two. Story title comes from the poem of the same name by Emily Dickinson.**


	2. Letting Go

**Letting Go**

**- 0 -**

As Rose excited the TARDIS and made her way through the arches into the shopping centre beyond, she felt something inside her shift. The same something from the night before. She ignored it and marched on. By now there was an odd buzzing in her head, and when she saw him sitting there sipping a coffee and absentmindedly filling in the crossword, the buzzing became so loud she though she might pass out. It was as if she'd spent the last few weeks viewing life from behind a thick sheet of Perspex that had kept the world safely muffled and slightly out of focus. Now the protective barrier had been ripped away and everything was suddenly too bright, too hard, too painful.

A little green alien paused to ask Rose if she was OK. She nodded and sprinted for the bathroom to stand slumped inside the door, trembling so badly she thought she might shake apart. Eventually the shudders calmed and she was able to make her way towards a mirror. Not good. She didn't look much like a happy shopper returning from the Promised Land. Rose splashed cold water on her face and surveyed the results. It would have to do.

The Doctor looked surprised when she pulled up the chair next to him and sat down.

'You back already? Thought I'd be in for the day,' he said, pointing to the small forest of magazines and newspapers sitting on the chair across from them. When she didn't respond to his teasing, he looked her up and down and frowned. 'Where're your old clothes and what happened to the rest of your shopping? Can't see any sign of a pack mule following on behind.' He sounded more thoughtful now than amused.

'Oh, I… you were right. Wasn't as good as I expected it'd be here; this is all I found,' Rose said, indicating the clothes she was wearing. 'Left the old stuff behind in the shop.' It was hard to form words, harder to talk naturally when she hadn't done it for weeks. 'I was bored with them. I thought… I thought these were more fun.' Rose tried on a flirty smile for size and felt it seize up when he only frowned harder.

'OK, who are you, and don't bother tryin' to lie because I'll know.'

'I'm… I'm Rose,' she stammered. 'Rose Tyler.'

He rolled his eyes, and the gesture was so familiar it hurt. 'I know you're Rose Tyler, but you're not the Rose Tyler who's currently attempting to break the world speed shopping record. You're also not the Rose Tyler I've spent the last twelve months travelling with.'

Rose felt the trembling start up again and burning tears flood her eyes. 'I am your Rose Tyler.' The words came out not much above a whisper, and he bent closer to catch them. 'I'll only ever be your Rose.' And then she was sobbing, sobbing so desperately she was dimly aware of the mutter of the surrounding customers sitting up and paying attention. The Doctor stood, the metal chair scrapping noisily against the granite floor, and swept her into his arms and out of the café.

The next time Rose lifted her head, they were in a secluded seating area, surrounded by real trees and the sound of running water. 'Got us a private viewing room,' he said, pointing to the floor to ceiling window where stars twinkled in the blackness outside. He handed her a wad of tissues and she took them gratefully.

'I take it something's happened to me,' he prompted gently when Rose seemed prepared to let the silence continue while she mopped at her tears. She was barely paying attention to the task though, and she jerked when she felt a sharp sting as a ragged nail caught the side of her cheek. The Doctor fumbled in his pocket and reached out to run the sonic screwdriver over the scratch. Rose felt the soothing warmth as it healed the cut, and her hand crept up to hold his trapped against her face. 'I've regenerated?' he asked softly, his thumb caressing her jaw.

Rose nodded, fresh tears spilling from her eyes and soaking his hand.

'So what's the problem? He's older? Younger lookin' than me?'

Rose struggled to think. 'Um, younger. Not much.'

'Ugly then?'

'Dunno. No. Bit pretty, really.'

He didn't seem displeased by the idea. 'But you don't like him?'

'No, I… he's OK, I suppose. I think. I don't know.' Rose shook her head helplessly, dislodging his hand. 'He's not you.'

'He sounds like me,' he said, a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. 'Sounds like you've got him as wrapped around your little finger as you had me, getting him to agree to a crazy stunt like this.'

Rose felt a flood of hot guilt. The Doctor narrowed his eyes. 'How exactly _did_ you get him to agree?'

'I drugged him,' Rose admitted in a rush, almost unable to believe now she'd done it. 'I took a sedative from the medilab and put it in your favourite mug.'

The Doctor sighed and then shrugged his shoulders. 'Well, at least you went for the humane solution and didn't bash him over the head with a blunt object.' He paused. 'I hope?'

Despite his vaguely teasing tone, guilt was still nagging at Rose and she felt the need to unburden herself completely. 'I was going to go with you. Leave this Rose here and just go with you,' she muttered miserably, staring down at her shoes, too ashamed to meet his intent gaze. 'Or maybe find her and somehow dump her in the other TARDIS with him.' Hearing the words spoken aloud, Rose realised she wasn't exactly sure anymore what she'd planned; it all seemed a bit vague now. She raised reluctant eyes to his and was shocked to see the Doctor staring back at her with tender amusement.

'Don't look so guilty, Rose. You'd have never done it.'

Rose was starting to think that herself, but didn't want to be let off the hook so easily.

'I might have.' He shook his head and she let out a watery laugh. 'OK, maybe not,' she conceded. Without warning, she felt the tearing loss wash over her again and she leapt up to throw her arms around him, half on his lap, half on the chair and squeezing him so tight she heard him let out a grunt of protest. Before she could even think of pulling away, his arms came around her and they held each other like that, sobs shaking her body and his soothing voice in her ear.

Eventually the storm passed and Rose sat back, feeling limp. The Doctor gave her one last hug and then stood up and went over to a small table across the room she hadn't noticed before. He dropped in teabags and then poured hot water into two cups from the insulated thermos, adding milk and a large spoonful of sugar to each.

He put both cups down on the table in front of Rose and then sat heavily back down on the chair beside her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. 'You can't tell me,' he said abruptly, looking grim. 'What happens, what goes wrong. We can't mess about with time like that.'

'I know.'

'And you can't stay here.'

'I know,' Rose said again. 'I can't stay with him either,' she added dully.

His head shot round. 'What? Why not?'

'I've told you; it's not the same.'

'Well, he won't look the same, obviously, and he'll probably be a bit off at first, but he's still me. Where it matters, he's still me.'

'No, he's not you! Don't you get it? He barely remembers me!' Rose paused, not entirely sure that was quite true, suddenly remembering all those half heard conversations he'd tried to strike up. She shook her head, refusing to think about it and instead raised an accusing finger to point at the gently steaming cup in front of her. 'He didn't know how I liked my tea–'

'I can't believe you'd be daft enough to make a big deal out of that!'

'–and he never offers to take me out for chips when I'm feeling homesick.'

'Have you asked him to?'

'He doesn't even remember my mum!'

The Doctor blinked. 'Well now, you can't blame him for that. I try to forget your mum on a daily basis.'

Rose felt a wave of rage sweep over her. 'Don't joke! S'not funny!'

'I'm sorry.' He sighed heavily, and then looked up, his jaw tensed grimly. 'I'm sure he'll remember her sooner or later. But even if he doesn't, you can't just leave; it's still me.'

Rose shook her head sadly. 'It's not the same.'

The Doctor made an impatient noise and threw himself to his feet. 'You're all the same, you humans,' he muttered irritably, reaching out to grab her hand and drag her along with him out of the room. 'Sentimental little apes.' Rose laughed and he glanced back round to shoot her a questioning look. 'Something I said?'

'The other you, yeah.'

He grinned over his shoulder and Rose felt her heart clench in her chest. 'Told you we're not so different.'

'So where're we going?' Rose asked, refusing to touch that with a bargepole.

He immediately came to a halt in the middle of the wide concourse and Rose only just managed to stop herself ploughing into his back. 'Good point.' He released his death grip on her hand and spun on his heel to face her. 'The day you were here, did you leave the shopping centre?'

'God, no.' Rose said, a grin of remembered pleasure bubbling up and taking her by surprise. 'Could've spent a month in here and not seen it all. In fact, you had to threaten to get security to escort me back to the TARDIS when it was time to go.'

'Fantastic!' The Doctor took her hand again and within moments they were outside. The bright glow of the fluorescent lighting was missing in the litter-strewn streets Rose suddenly found herself in, and she moved instinctively closer to the Doctor. It was a relief that he seemed to know where he was going, because she was completely lost before they had turned the third corner.

The streets got seedier and seedier the further they travelled. Rose was beginning to get seriously worried when the Doctor finally stopped outside a grubby shop doorway that was sandwiched between a boarded up building and a rough looking bar.

She tugged on the Doctor's hand when he reached out to push the door open. 'We're not going in there?'

He beamed happily back at her. 'Oh, yes, we are.' As he dragged her inside Rose caught sight of a grimy sign in the dingy windows, the flickering neon only just visible through the years of filth.

'Tattoos and body piercing?' she demanded, trying to pull the Doctor back out of the door. It had absolutely no effect.

'You're a twenty first century girl, Rose. This should be right up your street.'

'You don't see any tattoos or piercings on me, do you?' Rose demanded, sticking her tongue out to prove the point.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, a wicked gleam in his eyes. 'Shame that,' he said sadly, bending in to inspect her tongue more closely. 'Heard they can be fun.'

Rose spluttered and quickly retracted her tongue, closing her lips tight over it.

The Doctor gave a shout of laughter and hugged her suddenly to him. 'Luckily, or unluckily from my perspective – because I still say we could have a lot of fun with one of those – we're not here for you,' he said, moving away to inspect a row of computers against a wall.

He pulled his sonic screwdriver out and pushed it into the slot to the right of the computer. Rose looked warily around and risked opening her mouth. 'Doctor, someone might come.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Self-service,' he muttered, jiggling at the screwdriver's controls and putting it back in his pocket with a pleased expression when the screen credits suddenly shot up to an obscene amount.

A card clunked out onto a tray underneath the computer and he picked it up, examining the back. 'Room 9. My lucky number,' he said cheerfully and bounded away towards a curtained-off section at the rear.

Rose followed more slowly, pausing to stare at the hundreds of pictures of tattooed and pierced aliens and humans covering the walls. She shuddered and ducked around the curtain by kicking it gingerly aside with her toe. Room 9 was midway down the corridor. The door was covered with suspicious looking stains and the mottled flooring didn't bear close examination.

Inside, the Doctor was peering at another computer screen. Images were flashing by too fast for Rose to make them out. His fingers flew across the touch screen, and he let out a satisfied grunt. 'That's the one,' he muttered, jabbing away at the screen. 'Now, where're the colour options?'

Rose moved curiously closer and caught a glimpse of a picture of a deep red rose just starting to bloom. She stared incredulously at him as the screen went blank. 'Are you kidding?'

The Doctor pulled the card back out of a slot at the side and made his way over to the large dentist type chair that dominated the centre of the room. Without blinking an eye, he stripped out of his leather jacket and green jumper and pushed them into Rose's arms. She made a noise of garbled protest and went to drop them on the floor.

'Oi! Careful with them!' he said, sitting down on the chair and wriggling himself into a comfortable position.

Rose looked around the room and unable to find anything resembling a hook, or looking even vaguely sanitary, dumped the clothes impatiently on top of the monitor.

'You're getting a tattoo?' she demanded. 'Are you mad? This place is disgusting! God knows what you'll catch!'

'Nah, all done by lasers,' the Doctor said unworriedly. 'No risk of cross infection.' He reached around and pushed the card into a machine by the side of the chair. The mechanical arm attached to it made an alarming whirring noise, as though it was powering itself up to blow them both away.

Rose took a cautious step around it until she was eye to eye with the Doctor. 'What you doin' this for?'

'You wanted proof, didn't you? Something to show you I'm still me, that I still remember you–'

'So what?' She cut him off. 'He's gonna have the tattoo when you regenerate? What does that prove?'

The Doctor paused in the instructions he was tapping into the small control pad. 'There you go again – getting hung up on the physical! Can you try not to be so _human _for five minutes, Rose? He won't have the tattoo when he regenerates, just like he won't get my hair colour or ear size.' He smiled a lopsided smile, but Rose couldn't return it. She missed his ears.

He sighed and reached out to link his hand with hers. 'I wish this was different, I wish I never had to change, but everything has its time, Rose, even me, and you just have to accept that. You also have to learn you should never throw the baby out with the bathwater.' He jerked his head towards the machine humming away beside them. 'This is the only way I can think of to make you believe.'

Rose shook his hand angrily off and backed away from the chair. 'Believe what? I don't understand what this proves!' She was nearly crying now with frustration.

'That he remembers you! That my memories of you – all the ones that matter, at least – are still there!' Rose shook her head mutely, and felt her bottom lip quiver. The Doctor let out a weary sigh and turned away to hit a big blue button on the control pad.

Immediately a scanner swept over the Doctor's body, bathing him in an orange glow. As soon as it had finished the mechanical arm swung smoothly out to rest over his upper right arm and a white light shot out from the laser tip. For a moment it jerked rapidly over the exposed skin, and then a second and third beam joined it, the lights crisscrossing madly. It took less than a minute to complete, and with a final hissing noise the machine fell silent, retracting back to its original position and powering down.

Rose had been watching most of the procedure through half-shut eyes, and she opened them now to see the Doctor staring down at the new addition to his arm. 'Not bad,' he said approvingly.

Rose took a step closer and bent to examine it. The tattooed rose was about two inches in height, a bright, hot pink, and so perfectly detailed she gave in to the irrational urge to move even closer to see if she could smell its perfume.

Instead, there was another smell, warm and masculine and utterly familiar.

Rose lurched backwards suddenly feeling very hot. 'It's pink,' she said stupidly. 'I like pink.'

The Doctor grinned. 'Yeah, noticed that.'

He levered himself up from the chair and strode across the room to retrieve his clothes.

Rose watched with regret as his bare chest was hidden from view. 'So now what?'

'So now I've done my bit and it's just down to him to do his.' He shrugged his jacket into place and patted his pockets as though to check he hadn't left anything behind.

'And how does this help?' Rose said slowly, trying to piece it together in her mind. 'You reckon he's somehow going to remember this?'

'No, I reckon he's gonna remember this and get his own tattoo. Bridge the gap, like. Prove I'm still in there. Think that'll be enough to convince you?'

'I… dunno. I… yeah, s'pose so.' Rose rubbed her hand across her chest, feeling a panicky tightness there. Their time together had to be nearly up.

'Can't you stop worrying and just trust me?' he asked grumpily. 'I mean, when am I ever wrong?'

She managed to let that one go with only a hint of an eye roll. 'But… Doctor, all of this has only just happened. How can he already have a tattoo?'

'He'll know. It's part of me now.' He patted his arm. 'Part of my timeline.'

'Hang on,' Rose said irritably, 'that makes no sense. You expect me to believe he's somehow always known about the tattoo, that he's gone off at some point in the last few weeks and got one done – without telling me – even though yours didn't exist until five minutes ago?'

He shrugged. 'Well, yeah.'

'So why did he get so angry when I asked if I could come here if he already knew I did?' Rose was confusing herself now, but the Doctor seemed to have no trouble following the conversation.

'Because when you asked him he didn't know you come here.' He fixed her with a beady-eyed stare. 'And he was probably angry cos he knew that messing about in your own past is a Very. Bad. Idea.'

Rose twitched uncomfortably at the reminder. 'I still don't get it – how can he know about the rose and not this?'

'This isn't important,' the Doctor said patiently. 'The tattoo is.' Rose opened her mouth and shut it with a snap when he shook his head decisively. 'Time Lord thing. No point even tryin' to get your tiny human brain round it,' he said, not unkindly.

Rose gave up, feeling the now familiar wash of apathy sinking over her. 'OK,' she said, heading towards the door. 'But if it's not there I'm going home.' She was going home anyway, but wasn't up to any more arguing.

'Oh, it'll be there,' he said grimly. There was a hint of threat in his voice, almost as if he was issuing a warning to an unseen person, hidden but listening somewhere in the room.

Rose held out her hand to him, tried to smile, but even she could tell it was a pathetically feeble effort. He seemed to think better of whatever it was he'd been about to say and she was grateful for that.

The walk back to the TARDIS was over far too quickly. The ache in Rose's chest tightened into pain as she attempted to hold back the threatening tears. His face was tense as he stood looking down at her in the half-light.

'I can't do this,' Rose muttered.

'Yes, you can, because all you're doing is walking in there to me.'

Rose shook her head. 'No…'

'Yes,' he said firmly. He reached out to clasp her shoulders and turn her gently round to face the TARDIS door. 'Show me again how brave you are, Rose Tyler.'

The tears started then and Rose didn't even attempt to wipe them away. Instead she gave a jerky nod and reached into her pocket for her key. Door open, she stepped inside and turned back to face him.

'Thank you,' she tried to say, but the words were so garbled she wasn't sure he'd understand them. 'For taking m… me with you…'

'No, Rose,' he said gruffly. 'I don't know if I've said this enough, or even if I've said it at all, but the thanks are truly all mine.' And then he lowered his head to press his lips chastely to hers, the kiss filled with tenderness instead of hunger, need instead of want, and running through it all a deep, unwavering love that briefly lit up all the dark emptiness his regeneration had left inside her.

He pulled slowly away and stood staring down into her eyes, the bright blue of his own darkened by emotion. Rose managed a weak smile. 'See you in a minute, yeah?'

He nodded, swallowing convulsively. 'Yeah.'

Rose took a step backwards and sketched a wave. When he returned the gesture and turned to walk away, she moved to push the door gently closed and rested her head against the cool wood and let the TARDIS soak up her tears.

Rose had no idea how much time had passed before she felt strong enough to move. When she did, her first thought was of the Doctor and checking to see if he was OK. The idea that the tattoo would be there was too ridiculous to even consider, but she somehow found herself breaking into a run, arriving moments later in the kitchen, slightly out of breath.

The Doctor was where she'd left him. Rose reached out to check his pulse and was relieved to feel the steady beats of his twin hearts.

As if in echo, she felt her own heart rate speed up. It was mad to even dare to hope. But he was wearing a T-shirt, so checking would hardly be a chore. Rose told herself she wouldn't have looked if it had been more work than that. With trembling hands she smoothed the soft cotton up over his right arm, closing her eyes on a quick prayer and removed her hand to reveal–

Nothing.

She couldn't help the choking sound of distress that escaped her. Stupid, _stupid_, Rose.

The noise caused the Doctor to stir, and Rose backed hurriedly away, watching him through fearful eyes and holding her breath in the hope he'd settle back off.

Even that hint of good fortune was denied her. He jerked abruptly upright, his eyes almost wild as he searched the room, jumping unsteadily to his feet when they lit upon Rose frozen to the floor two feet away from him.

'Rose!'

Rose took another step back. 'Look, I'm sorry, OK? I just lost it a bit for a while there.' She tried to keep her tone soothing as she began edging her way out of the room. But it had no effect. The Doctor was still advancing on her, his lips trying to form words his brain apparently couldn't supply.

'It won't happen again,' Rose promised in a rush. 'That is, I won't be here for it to happen again,' she continued more firmly. 'I want you to take me home.'

'NO!' The Doctor staggered across the room holding himself upright with the table, and then lunged the last few feet to grab her wrist, his grip surprisingly firm.

'I said I'm sorry!' Rose tried to shake his hand off. 'And I didn't do any real damage! I mean, look at you; you're up and about again already!'

The Doctor shook his head dazedly and then seemed to become distracted by the sleeve of his T-shirt that was still twisted around his arm.

'Yeah, sorry about that too,' Rose murmured, pulling surreptitiously when she felt the hand gripping her wrist go slightly slack. It instantly tightened again. He really was stronger than he looked.

'No, Rose,' the Doctor managed groggily and then with an impatient gesture, pulled her over with him to the sink. Rose shrieked when splashes of water hit her as he turned the tap on full blast and bent at the waist to duck his head under the icy torrent. He stayed like that until he was gasping for breath and then jerked the tap off and wrung the worst of the wetness out with his free hand. Hair slicked back to his skull, he straightened and shook the remaining water away like a dog. Rose shrieked again.

'Right,' he said, grinning widely. His hair was sticking up madly around his head, but it strangely suited him. 'That's better.'

'What are you doing?' Rose squawked.

In reply he dragged her over to the table and pushed her gently into a chair. 'Sit and don't move,' he ordered firmly. Rose wanted to protest, but there was something in his eyes that made her think better of it. Instead she settled back and made do with glaring at him balefully.

Now that she'd stopped arguing, the Doctor seemed suddenly unsure how to proceed. He dug his fisted hands deep into the pockets of his trousers and began to pace the kitchen restlessly.

'I know all this has been hard on you, but you have to understand how it's been for me, Rose,' he began in a rush of words. 'Regeneration's always confusing and this one… this one's been bad.'

Rose bit back a sarcastic laugh. _Tell me about it._

He must have read the thought from her face because he let out a weary sigh and sank into the chair next to her. 'Look, Rose, I'm sorry I don't remember every tiny detail about you and our time together yet, I'm sorry my accent has changed and my ears have shrunk, and I'm really, _really _sorry about this.' He jerked back his left sleeve to reveal a word spelled out on his upper arm in curling, hot pink letters:

_**Rose**_

'I knew as soon as I woke up it was wrong,' he said, slightly desperately, 'but I can fix it–'

Rose reached out wondering fingers to glide just above his skin, tracing the letters in the air. 'When'd you get it done?'

'The sea planet we stopped on to restock.'

'That long ago?'

'Yes.' The Doctor nodded quickly. 'That's why it's not where it should be. I mean what it should be. I mean… both. Everything was all mixed-up, Rose! To be honest with you,' he said, his voice lowering and becoming confiding, 'it worried me when I was suddenly overcome with the urge to get your name tattooed on my arm. Couldn't tell you, of course, thought I might be turning a bit stalker-ish.'

'Yeah, always a worry, that,' Rose murmured, still staring entranced at his arm.

'But now I remember,' he rambled on, 'we'll just send the TARDIS a few days into the future so we don't risk running into ourselves – have I told you how stupidly irresponsible that was, by the way? – and get it changed.'

'No, s'alright. I like it,' Rose said, and allowed her fingernail to graze his skin. He shuddered deeply and she regretfully sat back in her chair to look over at him. 'You're not my Doctor.'

The wild look returned to eyes that were brown when they should have been blue, and he pushed himself out of his chair to kneel on the floor in front of her. He was taller now than he'd been, and the new position brought his head on a level with her own. His hands fell to rest on her upper thighs. 'Don't throw away what we've got here, Rose, over some piddling little differences. I'm still me in all the important ways.'

'But what about the little ways? He'd never be begging me for anything on his knees for starters.'

The Doctor leapt back to his feet. 'I can't be exactly like him – I mean me – no matter how hard I try!' He slammed his hand down hard onto the kitchen table in frustration. 'Can't you just accept me for what I am now?'

'Yeah.' Rose nodded up into his tense face. 'Actually, I think I can.'

He stood stunned for a second, then gave a whoop of joy and gathered her up onto her feet and into his arms to spin her round. 'You won't regret this, Rose!'

Rose heard the echo of another voice in her head. _Fantastic. _She blinked back tears before lifting her head from where it had been buried in the crook of his neck to smile back at him. 'I know.'

He let out a happy sigh and gazed wonderingly down at her as though unable to believe his luck. Their eyes met for long silent seconds, and the pleasure in his face slowly dimmed to be replaced by a look of fierce determination. 'I promise,' he said solemnly, reaching out to press a soft kiss to her forehead. 'You won't regret it.'

And then he pulled away and walked over to stand in front of the open kitchen door. Rose followed curiously and stood beside him, wondering what he was waiting for, and finally understanding when he held out his hand, his gaze still set dead ahead. Rose hesitated, and then reached out the missing few inches to curl her fingers into his. Different, but not wrong.

She felt him squeeze her hand tight and then he turned to grin at her. 'Right then, seems like we've got a missing captain out there that needs finding. You with me, Rose?'

Rose smiled back. 'Always.'


End file.
